


we didn’t know how to drive this boat

by astrotears (brooklyninthesummer)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Overdosing, This Is Sad, im sorry, inspired by the movie ‘6 Balloons’, lowercase intended!, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklyninthesummer/pseuds/astrotears
Summary: “it’s the last time, please. i promise.”“you promised”, he repeats, like a mantra. “you promised. you promised. youpromised youpromisedyoupromised. promise”it wasn’t the last time.





	we didn’t know how to drive this boat

**Author's Note:**

> idek what this is? idk its really abstract and short. it’s vaguely inspired by a new movie on netflix called ‘6 Balloons’.  
> anyway this is my first work about mike & will i’m actually publishing so, enjoy i guess and thank you so much for reading in advance.
> 
> see you,  
> julie (aka notreddieyall)

will thinks that maybe he knew the whole time. maybe he just pretended that he never saw the signs, the signs he was all too familiar with. maybe he just didn’t want to face the truth.

 

it’s his fault. all the blame is for him to take. he told himself it’s not true but it was and he tried to push it away, refusing to accept reality. he should’ve fought, he could’ve saved him. but he didn’t want to fight, maybe that’s what it is. he cared about himself a little too much to put them through it once again.

 

“it’s the last time, please. i promise.”

“you promised”, he repeats, like a mantra. “you promised. you promised. youpromised youpromisedyoupromised. promise”

it wasn’t the last time. it will never be ‘the last time’. not until it’s the last time. not until it’s over. he’s over. it doesn’t stop. not ever.

 

 

his fingers are twitching and shaking like naked branches on a tree in autumns hurricanes. his heart is going a billion miles an hour, faster than speeding cars on highways.

will can almost see him, shaking hands bringing the needle closer to pale, exposed skin. the desperate moan that escapes his lips as the substance flows through his veins like a stream in the forest. his eyes close and his head tilts back, black curls falling out of his face. he’s loosing control. will wants to reach out to him, hit him, tell him to stop and yell at him. “only stupid people OD”, he’d said once, in his naïve stupidity.

he’s so happy when he’s like this, once it hits. happy and carefree, like he owns the world. his eyes are shining brighter than the stars on the clearest night you can imagine. he sometimes reminds will of a little child at a fair, experiencing their first sugar rush. (but it’s a different kinda rush.)

it’s one of the more obvious signs, when he’s like this. so obvious that will should’ve noticed. it’s almost as if he wanted him to notice after some time, desperately crying for help behind this child-like cascade.

but with every high comes a down. will thinks that, maybe, the happiness didn’t last long enough anymore. he lost every inch of every last bit of control he had. and will wants to hate him for hit. for leaving him like that. for putting him through this. for loosing control like that. for loving the needle more than him. because will has gone selfish like that. but he couldn’t ever hate him, no never. 

 

he still remembers that night, how he tried everything to get through that stupid, locked bathroom door. he had to get their neighbours to help him break the door. the bathroom smelled like alcohol and peach soap and there he was sitting, left arm, with the needle still sticking in it, on the toilet and the rest of his lanky body propped up against it. he wasn’t breathing anymore and so was will when he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet.

 

they all say ‘it’s okay, i understand’ when he cries and screams because of his grief and the nightmares he has but no one understands. they won’t ever understand.

 

the lies are rushing through his head. the lies that fell from his lips, like they were already sitting there, eager to be told. the lies that will pretended to believe. “this is the last time. i swear i’ll stop. please. i promise.”

“only stupid people OD.”

 

_god, you’re so fucking stupid michael wheeler._


End file.
